Rapture: A Collection
by phati-sari
Summary: A collection of all my MATURE ficlets, oneshots, and other small works.
1. Not Making Love

_I set myself a goal last year to write more intimacy. I felt I wasn't good at it (because SHY, and also because I felt oddly voyeuristic), and identified it as a skill I needed to hone in order to become the best writer I can be._

 _I'll be presenting a handful of more mature pieces in the order they were first written, so hopefully you'll be able to see my growth (if any!) as my comfort with the subject matter increased. It culminates in_ Veritas _Part 5, which ... well ... you'll see when we get there._

* * *

"I'm not making love to you tonight. I'm ravaging you."

The low growl of his voice faded into a silence that was broken only by her soft whimpers. His fingers moved over her silk-soft skin, inciting gasps that he swallowed as he kissed her. Khushi stood with her back against the wall, her hair still wet from her shower, her eyes closed, her body quivering with anticipation.

"Please, please, please," she chanted, her breath ragged.

"Not until you say it again."

She growled - an adorably sexy sound that set his desire alight - as she moved her hips, trying to force his fingers where she wanted them.

"I need ..."

"Say it again."

She shook her head. Arnav bit down a smile and moved his fingers down her thigh, further and further from their goal.

"Then I'll just stop ..."

"No," she panted.

He kissed her, long and deep and hard, trying to convince her without words. He needed this, he just hadn't known _how much_ until a few minutes ago, when her desire had gotten the better of her. What had started as teasing - a way to ignite her in preparation for later tonight - had turned into this.

Her, against the wall, and him, teasing and punishing her resistance.

His fingers slid up her thigh and stopped just shy of her. They started back down.

"Arnav!"

It was a frustrated growl, almost a warning, but it warmed him inside.

 _Finally._

He rewarded her, his fingers covering the final few centimeters until she moaned. She collapsed against the wall, needing his other hand at her hip to hold her upright. He kissed her neck, gently biting and allowing blood to pool, forming a mark that would stay on her for the next day. Or two.

"Keep saying it, baby."

She wasn't listening. She seemed to have forgotten he was even in the room. He chuckled before focussing all his attention on her, playing her body like an instrument tuned to his touch.

And when she was close, when he knew she couldn't take much more, he froze.

"One more time, Khushi," he urged.

Her response was a garbled sound - moan mixed with what passed for swearing from his wife. He laughed, his fingers performing a languid dance over her skin. She squirmed.

"Why are you doing this?" Khushi breathed, her fingers tugging helplessly at his hair.

"I like it when you take my name," his lips moved against her neck, "you know that."

"I can't."

He kissed her forehead before stepping back slightly to look at her. She was still wearing the dress of her night-suit, but the pants were pooled at her ankles with her underwear. She was breathing hard, but the determination in her eyes was unwavering. She wasn't going to give in. Not like this.

It was time to use his last weapon.

He kissed her roughly, biting and sucking, as his hands roved inside her dress and made her gasp and moan. He unzipped it and slid the material down her arms, where it joined its partner on the floor. He grinned at her wickedly before dropping to his knees.

Her fingers tangled almost painfully in his hair as she moaned in anticipation. This was her favourite thing in the world.

 _Well, almost her favourite._

"Love you, dammit" he whispered.

He teased her, hooking her leg over his shoulder and kissing his way up and down. She bore the sweet torture for several long minutes, but eventually gave in.

"Please, Arnav."

She rocked into him as he obliged her, giving her what she was desperate for. Her head hit the wall with a soft thud. She held him in place, pulling at his hair. Her sounds became louder, echoing around him.

She shook with the beginnings of her release.

He stopped. "Not until you say it, baby."

She tried to push him back down as he kissed his way up her body, but he was relentless. He captured her lips in a gentle kiss before lifting her up and placing her carefully in the middle of their bed.

" _Rakshas_!" she complained as he left her briefly.

His clothes hit the floor with a soft rustle before he reached for the foil wrapped packet in his bedside drawer. They weren't ready for another child, not with Aarav still so unsure of his place in their lives.

"I've never denied it," he instilled as much innocence as possible into his smile as he returned to her.

The crashed together, limbs tangling and bodies entwining as they kissed. She arched up into him, her nails digging into his skin. His fingers tightened on her hips, leaving marks she would find in the morning. Their kisses became messy as they struggled to breathe.

And still they didn't come together, though now his control hung by a thread.

"Say my name," he groaned, "and promise me you'll always say it."

"Why?"

"I need you to," he confessed.

Her gaze sharpened as she was distracted from her pleasure.

"You need me to?" she repeated.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Arnav sighed. There was nothing to gain by hiding it from her.

"You're my wife, my equal."

Khushi frowned up at him, "I don't understand."

"Even if you're not willing to take my name any other time, I need you to do it here, in our marriage bed."

"But ..."

"No," he brushed tendrils of hair from her damp forehead, "Anything else feels wrong. In this room, on this bed, there's nothing but us. You're just Khushi and I'm just Arnav, your Arnav."

Khushi, _his Khushi_ , bit her lip as she considered. He rolled his hips absently as he waited and earnt a light smack to his chest.

"Let me think!"

Grinning, he buried his face against his wife's neck to breathe her in.

"Will you tell anyone?" she asked.

"What the—" he growled, pushing slightly away, "Why the _hell_ would I even—"

"Hush," Khushi clamped her hand over his mouth.

He fumed, debating whether a bite or kiss was more appropriate, but she spoke before he'd decided.

"Okay. I will."

A wave of contentment rushed through him, cutting through his brief frustration. He kissed her palm.

"Mmmm," he hummed, guiding her hand to his shoulder, "Start tonight."


	2. Unwrapping

**Unwrapping**

Arnav took his top lip between his teeth, watching as the digital clock on his phone sluggishly ticked over.

 _11:56pm._

He held a red rose between his fingers; a cutting carefully taken from the garden that lay outside their bedroom just a few minutes ago. They were at the farmhouse, as had become their habit for special occasions and those rare weekends when he wasn't working.

Their bedroom was lit with the soft glow of two dozen white candles. A platter of rose petals rested on the bedside table, next to a small container of _jalebis_ he'd made himself. A black and white photo from their wedding hung above the bed, framed in simple black. Khushi was grinning, gazing up at him with undisguised love and adoration as he carried her into Shantivan.

 _Three minutes._

He sat on the edge of their bed, drinking in the sight of his wife as she slumbered. On the other side of the room, on a table decorated with a string of fairy lights, sat a small cake. Minuscule. Only big enough for four tiny slices.

Arnav shifted his weight, yawning, and froze when Khushi mumbled a protest in her sleep.

"Ssshhhh," he smoothed her fringe away from her face.

Smiling, Khushi snuggled into his hand, and he smiled as a memory surfaced.

 _Next year, I'll take her to Nainital. Maybe we'll actually make it there._

He sat there, lost in his memories, until his phone buzzed.

Midnight.

Leaning forward, he kissed Khushi's forehead.

"Happy birthday, Khushi."

She stirred, but didn't wake.

"Wake up," he murmured, running his fingers lightly over her eyes, "Khushi."

"Arnav-ji."

Khushi took his name in her sleep as she rolled over. The blanket slipped, revealing the white nightgown she wore. Desire pulsed in his veins, sudden and potent. She looked so pure, so innocent, so _delicately pretty_ in white.

"Wake up, Khushi."

Drawing the sheet aside slightly, Arnav traced the rose over his wife's eyelids.

He trailed the soft petals over her cheeks, her nose, her lips. He kissed her, and pulled away when she started to respond in her sleep. The rose resumed its explorations, sweeping along her jaw and down her neck. Across her shoulders, skipping over the thin straps of her gown, and then lower. He skimmed her ribs before circling her navel, peeling the sheets away to reveal more of her.

The gown ended at her knees, but had ridden up to her thighs in her sleep. Arnav smiled as he guided the rose along her leg. He traced random patterns across her knee, down to her ankle, and then worked his way up the other leg.

Khushi whimpered. He watched as her eyes flickered. She whispered his name as the rose journeyed under her gown, and slowly, her eyes opened. Blinking sleepily, she looked around the room, taking in the candles and cake, but only woke fully when she registered him sitting beside her, the rose in his hand still caressing her inner thigh.

"What are you doing?" her hand clamped around his wrist, stilling him and the rose.

"Happy birthday."

He set the rose on the table before leaning towards her. Khushi gasped into his kiss, and his desire threatened to ignite. The antics with the rose had served to fan his own yearning more than awaken hers. But they knew each other now, had learnt to read one another's smallest gestures, so he smiled as she bit his bottom lip gently. A silent invitation.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Arnav deepened their kiss as he stretched out next to her. His hands retraced the path of the rose, and she hissed before responding in kind, sliding her hands over and under his night shirt. One of them groaned, but the sound was lost as he whipped her gown over her head. His shirt soon followed.

Pulling him closer, Khushi kissed him hungrily as she battled with the ties on his pants. At her growl of frustration, his own hands joined hers, working the knot with a fire that matched hers. When all the barriers between them were gone, Arnav explored his wife's pleasures, relishing her sounds. He arranged her pliant body gently, but stilled at her soft whisper.

"Arnav. Is it your birthday, or mine?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Is there something you want?"

Khushi reddened, batting him away gently. He refused to move.

"Tell me."

He traced patterns into her skin as he waited, and when no response came, brushed his fingers over her cheek and jaw.

"Tell me, birthday girl."

Pulling him down, Khushi hid her face against his neck. She trembled as she whispered what she wanted into his ear.

A long, _long_ while later, Arnav covered her with the sheets as she rested her head on his shoulder, her body wrapped around his.

"We should celebrate your birthday every night," he suggested.

Khushi gave an embarrassed giggle as she swatted at him. "Shameless!"

"I do my best ..."

"Is there cake?" Khushi asked, one hunger apparently replacing another.

"Cake and _jalebi_ from me, and Aarav is making you breakfast in bed in the morning."

"Arnav-ji! Why are you ruining his surprise?"

"Because you snuck into the kitchen and ruined the surprise on Mother's Day."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he grinned, dropping a kiss onto her hair, "Do you want the cake or _jalebi_ first?"

"Do you have to ask?"

They ate the _jalebi_ in bed, Khushi moaning as she bit into a spiral. His sweet-making had greatly improved under her careful tutelage.

And later, when they'd cleaned each other of any and all errant crumbs and indulged in a _distraction_ or two, Arnav slid out of their bed. He pulled on his pants, handed Khushi her gown, and politely turned away as she dressed. She joined him at the small table as he lit a candle on her cake.

"Chocolate?"

"I tried to convince them to make a _jalebi_ flavoured cake," he joked, earning playful pinch.

He caught her up, kissing her and whispering another birthday wish against her lips, "Happy birthday, baby. I wish you every happiness, every success. Aarav and I love you so much."

Smiling through tears, Khushi thanked him with a kiss before turning to her cake. They cut it together, feeding each other amidst long, languorous kisses. She giggled and bounced in his arms.

"Where's my gift?"

"Weren't you paying attention earlier?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear.

Scandalised, Khushi gasped as she pushed him away. Arnav chuckled, twirling her so she rested against him. They swayed to some unheard music.

"I hid them in the room earlier. There are three packages. You can look for them in the morning."

She sprang away, rushing to the wardrobe and ignoring his attempts to recapture her. Khushi found the package easily. She sat on the edge of their bed, running her fingers over the wrapping – plain, bright yellow – before carefully opening it. The soft material of the sari slipped through her fingers as she examined it. Red, of course, but with a bright yellow _pallu_. Grinning, Khushi started to thank him, but he waved her into silence.

"Two more packages," he reminded her.

She found matching bangles and a jewelry set in another package under his bedside table. Arnav lounged on the bed, watching his wife hunt for the third and last package.

"Where is it?" she asked eventually, her hands on her hips as she came to stand in front of him.

Smirking, Arnav pointed to himself.

"I can't unwrap _you_!" Khushi's eyebrows came together in a frown.

"You can, but that's not what I meant."

She blushed. He held out a hand and tugged her onto his lap when she slid her palm against his.

"Your last present is me," he murmured into her hair, "in Lucknow, for two weeks. With you, your Amma and Babu-ji, and Bua-ji."

"Really?!"

"The train tickets are in an envelope behind the TV."

She bounded away, retrieving the envelope before settling back into his lap. Khushi hugged him close, mumbling her thanks before trailing kisses along his neck, his jaw, his lips.

He fell back onto the bed, taking her with him.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _Although I originally envisioned this piece to be more explicit than Not Making Love, I loved the idea of leaving exactly what they did unexplored and instead focussing on Khushi's comfort with sharing her desires and fantasies with her husband._

 _I love the way this turned out :D_

 _My favourite line is "I can't unwrap_ you _!"_


	3. Veritas: Part 1

**Arnav**

"But where _is_ Khushi?"

Arnav slid his phone out of his pocket, his fingers scrolling quickly to her name. Worry unfurled within him when she didn't answer. He was half way through redialing when the realization struck him.

 _Shyam isn't around either._

"Mama-ji, where's Jija-ji?"

He made every effort to sound casual. _Calm_. But his voice still shook under the weight of his terror.

 _If they're together ..._

"A phone-call came, and then he left ..." Mama trailed off.

And now his pulse hammered, dread and rage and panic all mingling in his blood. He made for the dressing rooms, eyes darting left and right as he searched for his wife.

 _Don't be with him. Be anywhere, Khushi, just don't be with him._

He muttered her name as he searched amongst the crowds of people busily packing up after the talent night.

"Have you seen Khushi Singh Raizada?" he asked the event manager as the man passed by.

Her voice echoed in his mind _. "Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada"_.

"I think she and her husband—"

"—I'm her husband," Arnav interrupted with a growl.

"I'm sorry, you were dressed as Ranjha, so I didn't recognize you. Well ... I saw her leave with a man."

The sharp ache of betrayal made itself known in his chest. His blood cooled, pulse slowing, as he dismissed the man with a nod. His fingers curled into a fist.

 _No_ , whispered his heart, _she's not with him_.

He dialed another number.

"Aakash?"

"Yes, Bhai?"

"Do something for me. Take everyone outside and bring the car out, then I'll ..."

He trailed off.

Across the room, separated from him by a sea of people, stood his treacherous brother-in-law, smiling at someone. The crowd shifted, revealing a woman. Luscious form wrapped in a scarlet _salwaar_ suit. A waterfall of black tresses. Arnav didn't need to see her face to know her as his wife.

His hand lowered, phone call forgotten, as his body became rigid. Bands tightened across his chest, making it impossible to breathe. A cocktail of pain and fury burned in his veins instead, blurring his vision. He watched Shyam smile and nod at Khushi, placing his hand on her arm as if to comfort her. Arnav tried to swallow the bile that rose at the back of his throat. He looked away.

 _Don't be weak, Arnav. Witness her betrayal. This is the woman you love. Poison wrapped in sweetness. Treachery shrouded in innocence._

His eyes found them again, honing in on Khushi's fingers as they caressed Shyam's. He took a shuddering breath as his anguish intensified. Then a man came to stand in his line of sight, and when he was able to see them again, Khushi had left. Shyam stared after her, mouth tilted in an amused smile as he shook his head fondly.

Arnav hurried in the direction Shyam's stare indicated. Tears – of wrath, of _betrayal_ – formed. His mouth twisted as he dismissed them, channeling everything into anger.

It embraced him like an old lover.

It wasn't hard to find her. _I didn't dance to your tune, but I did dance with you_ , he'd said after Aakash's _Sangeet_ , but the truth was that his every cell was attuned to her. He could find her, unerringly, with his eyes closed.

His heart had learnt to beat in tandem with hers.

"Where were you?" he growled, barely aware of his sister's presence.

Khushi's smile disappeared. She trembled, a proverbial deer trapped in headlights, frozen as he tried to read her treachery in her eyes.

"She was right here," Di interjected, "She was looking for me backstage."

"Di, you must be tired," Khushi took advantage of the distraction, "Should we go home?"

Arnav watched the tableau unfold, forehead creased as his wife and his sister lied to him. Khushi smiled, seeming every bit the concerned sister-in-law, and for a moment, everything inside him ached for it to be true.

 _How can she smile at Di when she was with Shyam not two minutes ago?_

 _The same way she can lie to you, Arnav._

 _Why is Di covering for her?_

 _Trusting too much runs in our blood. Mamma. Di. Me._

He stood frozen, conflict and agony trapping him as effectively as adamantine chains, and Khushi escaped without meeting his eyes. Blood rushed in his ears. His hands shook.

 _Shyam._

He retraced his steps, intent on giving voice to the tumult inside him, on warning the snake away from his wife yet again, but halted when he saw that Aakash and the rest of their family had joined him.

"Jija-ji, where were you?" he heard Aakash ask.

"It's nothing, _Saale-Sahib_. I just had some work nearby so ..."

Arnav looked away, gritting his teeth as nausea rose in his throat.

He was adrift in a sea of treachery, and the life-line he'd chosen for himself was made of lead.


	4. Veritas: Part 2

**Arnav**

Arnav drove home in a daze, ignoring Khushi's enquiring glances from the passenger seat. She bolted as soon as he parked the car, helping Aakash and Di with the costumes before disappearing.

He followed slowly, his heart and his mind engaged in yet another battle in the war that had become his life.

"You take such good care of me."

He looked up. Di stood at the front door, her hand under Khushi's chin as she praised her.

"I only have one sister-in-law," Khushi smiled, "If I won't take care of you, then who will I take care of?"

"Okay, okay" Di giggled, "I'm going."

Arnav spoke the instant his sister disappeared through the doors.

"Where did you go?"

His wife jumped before turning, her eyes shadowed, a jewellery box in her hands. He grimaced, hating her faux-innocence, and despising his vulnerability to it even more. He took the steps with determined strides until he was standing in front of her.

A red rose, concealing the thorns within.

"I ... That ..."

Once, he'd found her stammering replies endearing. Now, he found them contemptible.

"Where were you?" he repeated through gritted teeth, "Don't you dare lie to me. You weren't with Di. And you weren't in the auditorium. Where the hell were you?"

Her eyes focussed on some point above his shoulder as her breath came in short gasps.

 _Fear._

"Where?" his voice trembled.

Khushi's eyes flew to his, as if she'd noticed.

 _Tell me. Just be true, for once._

He swallowed as she gathered herself up. "Wherever I went, why is it your concern?"

She started to turn away, but he stopped her with a hand to her arm.

"It's my concern. Where you are, when, and with whom, is my concern. Because you're my wife."

She seemed to soften – or did he imagine it? – but her grip was firm when she took his hand off her arm.

"Your wife? It's strange, I haven't felt like your wife in all these days. This bond is fine whenever you want it, and it has no meaning when you don't want it? You've made a mockery of the sanctity of marriage."

Her every word cut through him, leaving wounds that stung. And like a wounded animal, he fought with a primal urge that obliterated all good sense.

"Just answer my question ... or else ..."

"Or else, what? I'm sick of your threats. Forgive me. I'd forgotten, you never say what's in your heart. Your pride doesn't permit you to say it, right?"

Every muscle in his body tensed as memories attacked him.

 _"What you feel is what I feel" ... "Our heartbeats become one" ... "Do you remember anything?" "No."_

"Your anger has made my life into a farce," Khushi concluded.

 _Does she remember?_

"Khushi, stop your nonsense. I want an answer to what I'm asking."

 _No, she cannot remember._

"Let me leave," defiance flashed in her eyes, "I have to give Di almond milk."

His hand found her arm again, holding tightly to prevent her escape. The notion that had been tumbling in his mind found its way to his lips.

"Oh! Now I get it. You're trying to make everyone in this household happy. You want to show how much you care for everyone. First you convinced the judges to deny you the prize, then you made sure everyone knew about it so everyone thinks that Khushi is great. What a nice girl, she takes care of everyone, the great Khushi Kumari Gupta, right?"

 _Singh Raizada._

He inhaled sharply, trying to quash the guilt gnawing at him.

"Think whatever you want to think," Khushi invited, anguish in her eyes, "I'm not concerned about your meaningless words. And yes, now I don't want to talk to you, or listen to you."

Rage, white-hot and blinding, overpowered him. A bag of costumes thudded to the ground before he realized that he'd flung it there. Throwing a horrified glance his way, Khushi made to collect it.

"I can't let you go, Khushi."

The truth tore out of him, his voice almost pained with the weight of it, as he clamped a hand around her arm yet again.

"You'll have to tell me what your plan is. You want to make everyone happy so you can get more jewellery?"

His tone gentled unexpectedly as an ache rose within him. Her eyes dropped to the jewellery box still clutched in her hands.

 _I'm giving you a chance, Khushi. Tell me everything._

 _Choose me._

"And then a little more?" he taunted.

Her eyes flooded with tears, damnable drops of salt and water that held him captive.

"Nani-ji gifted this with a lot of love, don't disrespect her feelings."

Arnav snatched the box out of her hands, flinging it against the wall behind him.

"I don't care. I don't have your skill in acting nice."

Her chest rose and fell as she tried to contain a sob. She walked past him, intent on the jewellery, confirming his suspicions.

 _The jewels mean more to her than her husband._

His jaw tightened. He turned to find her kneeling, gathering gold and garnet into her hands.

"Khushi, I'm asking you something."

She didn't acknowledge him. He strode to her, forcibly pulling her upright. "I said answer me damn it."

 _Tell me, Khushi. Be honest for once. Be true._

She flung his arms away, rejecting his touch.

"No. Our conversation is over! I don't know what answer you want from me, when I don't even understand your questions. And how will you let me answer? Even if I wanted to say something, you won't understand anyway."

It was so brief, so fleeting, that he almost missed it, but her eyes briefly shone with something. A few weeks ago he'd have called it love.

His control snapped.

"Our conversation is not over! You still haven't answered my question. Where. Were. You?"

Khushi knelt again, now intent on the bag of costumes. He hauled her upright.

"I've made a mockery of this institution? Me? And you? The _sindoor_ , the _mangalsutra_ , you wear them everyday, and yet you refuse to be a wife."

She tossed the bags away. "How can I be a wife if you won't be a husband?"

He leaned forward until his forehead touched hers, "That _sindoor_ is mine. The _mangalsutra_ is mine. I am your husband, Khushi. Now answer, as a wife."


	5. Veritas: Part 3

**Khushi**

Arnav-ji moved so his forehead touched hers, "That _sindoor_ is mine. The _mangalsutra_ is mine. I am your husband, Khushi. Now answer, as a wife."

She closed her eyes as his fingers tightened on her arms.

Wife. Husband. Marriage.

The words swirled chaotically in her mind. A memory surfaced.

 _"I'll never grant you the status of my wife."_

Still, he'd claimed her every day. Sometimes through words, sometimes through gestures. Once through dance, and tonight, through a performance.

 _"Whatever hurtful things I said, they have no meaning._

 _Whatever hurtful things I did, they have no meaning._

 _Right and wrong don't have meaning in this love._

 _Only one thing has meaning ..._

 _That I will always ... always ..."_

She known what he'd been about to say, had been able to fill his silence using what he'd revealed on Holi.

 _"What you feel ... is what I feel."_

He hadn't moved, and they stood skin to skin, her hands braced on his chest. Arnav-ji shifted, inhaling deeply, and slowly, the moment morphed into something else. His grip loosened. Her breath stalled.

In his embrace – for that was what it was now, _an embrace_ – everything seemed to fade away. Khushi inhaled the orange-bergamot scent of him, unconsciously shifting closer as the urge to drown in him rose within her.

 _"Khushi-ji, please don't tell Chhote anything. He'll worry needlessly."_

Di's plea was a heavy weight on her mind. But so was the _mangalsutra_ around her neck.

 _Husband, or sister-in-law?_

Perhaps for other women it would've been an easy choice.

He'd made a mockery of marriage, but Khushi knew she was doing the same by refusing to answer his question. It was such a small thing, almost inconsequential – she'd been getting medicine for his sister, after all – but her wounded pride demanded silence.

This man, this devil who wore her _rajkumar's_ face, had robbed her of everything – her family, her dignity, her dreams, her life. Her love. And though she'd painstakingly won her place in his household and placated both their families, she was no closer to unlocking his secrets.

 _What changed, between one hour and the next, to turn the man I love into this?_

For the thousandth time, she wished she hadn't gone to the terrace. She wished she'd been by his side for whatever he'd endured.

Her heart seemed to stop.

 _Shyam-ji. The terrace. What if ..._

In the first week of marriage, she'd briefly thought he'd found out about her engagement to his brother-in-law. But it seemed impossible – who would tell him? Not Jiji, or Amma, or Bua-ji. And certainly not Shyam-ji himself, who seemed afraid of Arnav-ji despite all his bluster and bravado.

But the conversation on the terrace, Shyam-ji's pleas to love him, be with him, to forget about Di ...

 _He doesn't like it when Shyam-ji is near me. What if he knows something?_

"I promised I wouldn't tell you," she whispered, her heart quivering in fear, "Di asked ... and I was ..."

 _He wouldn't have married me if he thought ... if he knew ..._

"Khushi ..." he sounded pained, almost tortured.

Her hands slipped up until she was gripping his collar. She was tired. Tired of fighting her love for him. Tired of fighting his pride. Tired of bearing his anger.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to prove to him that she was true. That she'd always, always, been his, even when Shyam-ji had tricked her. That she'd always, always, be his, even if he didn't want her.

Her choice was made.

"Di felt dizzy. She didn't want you to worry. I went to get her medicine. Di insisted that Shyam-ji go with me."

 _Husband. Above all else, husband._

He'd released her before she'd finished speaking, striding up the stairs with a mumbled "Di!"

Khushi lunged for his hand and clasped it firmly between hers.

"Arnav-ji," she choked back a sob, suddenly terrified by the thought of her husband in the same room as Shyam-ji, "Di's fine now. I promise. If she knew that I told you ..."

 _Please don't go_ , she pleaded silently.

"I don't care!"

He wrenched his hand away. She'd been balanced on the edge of a stair, and bereft of his anchoring weight, Khushi felt the world tip. She screwed her eyes shut with a gasp, praying for a miracle even as she braced for impact.

A hand wrapped around her wrist. A jolt travelled through her body.

She opened her eyes slowly. Her husband stood there, eyes flashing with conflict, his iron grip the only that prevented her plummet onto unforgiving concrete.

Her breath abandoned her in a rush as she recalled another time, another moment where he'd been the only thing between her and a fall. Then, she'd taunted him, not believing that he'd let her fall until he'd loosened his grip. Now, she waited for him to release her.

"I've had enough of this, Khushi," he warned.

Despair rose within her.

 _So have I. I'm tired of the charades; hiding the truth of this marriage, and hiding the truth of my love. I've had enough of your hate._

"If you hate me so much," she cried, "then why are you holding my hand? Let me fall!"

"Don't dare me Khushi, you know that I'll—"

"—Then let me go! This is not new; you've done it before."

She watched him swallow, watched as his jaw clenched, and felt his grip loosen. Her wrist slipped through his fingers. She closed her eyes, praying that it wouldn't hurt. And then his fingers tightened as he yanked her to safety, enfolding her against his body. She held his collar, breathing erratically, as his hand found her waist.

Khushi pulled away slowly, reluctantly, her fingers loathe to leave him. His hand tightened at her waist, holding her in place.

"Khushi."

She trembled with the weight of conflicting desires. She wanted him closer. She wanted him gone. She wanted to hold him forever, somehow absorb him into her being. She wanted to run to the other side of the world, where he couldn't hurt her anymore.

He leaned in, close, then closer, then closer still. Her body adjusted, shifting with him until they were pressed together. She sobbed, the small sound carrying with it all her anguish, and all her relief.

"Ssshhh."

His lips found the corner of her mouth for the briefest of moments before he gathered her close. She cried in earnest, sobbing against him.

He did nothing. Said nothing.


	6. Veritas: Part 4

**Arnav**

He'd been a breath away from letting her fall.

He still remembered the sick thrill of pleasure that had coursed through him when she'd fallen onto the cardboard boxes stacked underneath his cabin.

 _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Khushi clung to him desperately as she sobbed, her fingers curled into his waistcoat, and his disgust in himself slowly gave way to something else. He'd never been able to stand her tears.

 _She went to get medicine for Di_ , whispered his relieved heart.

 _She was still with Shyam_ , argued his mind.

But his heart didn't care. It clung to her explanation with everything it had.

 _Innocent. She's innocent._

This conflict between his heart and mind had permeated every facet of his life. Sometimes, he didn't recognize himself.

 _I hate her for what she's forced me to become._

He was not this man, this monster who left bruises on her arms and used words as weapons, this empty shell who fluctuated between wanting her and wanting to hurt her. A wave of self loathing gripped him as a memory of their first meeting flashed behind his eyelids. A locked room, a broken _dori_ , pearls scattering to the floor, and a rush of tears.

 _Or maybe I am._

His wife trembled as her sobs finally slowed.

 _You kissed her, Arnav._

Her tears always cut through him a hundred times over, and the relief in her eyes when he'd saved her had weakened him. It had been the gentlest, quickest of touches of his lips to hers, his clumsy, half-panicked solution to her anguish.

 _She probably didn't even notice._

"What?" Khushi asked softly, "What did I do to make you so ...?"

"Don't ..." he warned.

 _You broke me. Betrayed me. Showed me a dream and then took it away. Tore my heart from my chest and crushed it, and all the while your heart beat for another._

"I want to know. Tell me what I did, that you hate me this much."

She stared up at him. He stood frozen, his seductress in his arms, a truth half formed on his lips.

 _I don't hate you. I want to ... but I can't._

A tear escaped, clinging to her lashes before dropping to her cheek. His breath came in ragged gasps as Khushi shifted slightly, her hand sliding up to his collar. A tremor wracked his body as his resolve wavered.

 _Her story contains just enough truth to be plausible,_ his mind warned.

There was still the possibility that she'd found a way to spend time with Shyam under the pretext of helping Di. Arnav closed his eyes against the memory of Khushi in another man's arms, the memory of the words she'd used to betray him and everything he held dear.

"Then listen to what you did ... what you tried to do," Arnav held her closer, his hands somehow rendered incapable of releasing her even through the haze of confusion and wrath.

"I'm this angry because, despite hating you, I have to see your face every day," he continued, "I'm tired of this ... this stupid temporary marriage of six months with you."

 _It hurts to look at you every day and know that you are not mine._

"Then why?" she asked tearfully, "Why did you marry me?"

"I had to, damn it. Otherwise who knows what you would've done, how many lives you—"

Arnav froze, appalled at how close he'd come to the truth.

"Arnav-ji?"

Just like that day, in the first week of their marriage, there was a trembling vulnerability in her tone, as if she couldn't fathom hurting him so much. And just like that day, he ached to believe in it. He crushed the feeling, twisting his body away from hers as he extricated himself from her grip.

Immediately, he missed her warmth.

"I don't want to see your face," he growled, "Stay away from me."

"I forgot. Arnav Singh Raizada needs to remain in control of everything."

Tears had pooled in her eyes once again. The image of his office, covered in potted plants, flashed into his vision.

"It's good that you've gotten to know me so well, because you'll have to answer to me for the next six months. You'll do exactly as I say. And don't dare to ask questions."

Her eyes had lowered but she looked back up briefly, questions running amok, before kneeling to gather the fallen jewellery.

"Did you hear me, Khushi?"

She stood, almost shaking with fury. "If you've said all that, then tell me this as well. What should I say when Nani-ji asks how this broke?"

Arnav inhaled sharply, grimacing as she brandished the broken necklace. It hung between them, flashing accusations in the bright porch lights. Frustration – at her, at the situation, at everything they were and everything they weren't – guided his hand as he snatched it from her. It landed on the ground between them, and he crushed it underneath a hand sewn leather shoe as he stepped forward.

"Tell her whatever you want."

Khushi found the edge of the stair again as she automatically moved away. His hand shot out to prevent her fall.

"Careful, Khushi."

"You hate me!" her eyes flashed in anger, "Why do you care?"

"I do care, dammit!"

She froze in her struggles to free herself. He froze too.

 _Fuck_.

The light in her eyes changed, anger dimming as something else flared. He started to flee after pulling her to safety, but her hand found his shoulder.

"No," her voice shook.

Arnav closed his eyes as weakness flooded his veins, "Don't ..."

Khushi closed the distance between them, "I ... I c-care t-too."

Her words echoed in his mind as he took her in his arms, his back against the wall and his wife against his chest. She gasped but remained in place as her hands locked on his shoulders. Her lips trembled.

Arnav allowed himself to act on the urge that _always_ gripped him on seeing that tremble. He lowered his head to press his mouth to hers, steadying her, comforting her, giving her his strength.

 _Take everything, Khushi. Take it all._

She did. After a few moments of frozen indecision in which her eyes fluttered closed and her body pressed into his, she responded. Tentative, slow movements that caused heat to flash through him like lightning. His hand found her hair, fingers running through the soft silk before tangling in it, angling her head for better access. Khushi made a soft sound of appreciation that urged him on. He switched their places so she was trapped between his body and the wall and toyed with the bauble that hung from her sleeve before crushing her closer, running his hands up and down her arms.

Arnav left her lips with great reluctance, taking pity on her lungs and working his way across her cheek and along her jaw. She trembled, her hands tightening in his hair in unconscious encouragement. And then she moaned as he kissed where her pulse raced at her throat. Khushi pulled him up, breathing hard as she met him in another kiss. He groaned as she slid her tongue along his. The insatiable fire that had burned within him since the night of the photo shoot raced along his veins.

 _More._

He pressed against her, groaning at the slight relief the friction provided. Khushi gasped. And he froze, reason finally coming to him in a rush.

 _Not here._

"Come."

He led her inside, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed they'd been and how cool the night air had become.

"Arnav-ji," Khushi paused on the stairs.

He stopped too, looking down to where her fingers had tightened around his. "What's wrong?"

"I don't ..." she looked away as her entire form shook, "I d-don't know ..."

Arnav slid his hand out of hers as rejection swept through him and solidified into anger. "Fine."

"No!" Khushi stepped around him to block his path, "I meant ... I don't know how ... how ..."

 _Oh._

Tenderness replaced the tumult inside him as he cupped her jaw, watching as she leaned into his touch.

"Do you trust me?" his thumb traced her lips.


	7. Veritas: Part 5

**Arnav**

"Do you trust me?"

The moment seemed suspended in time. Khushi held his gaze, her eyes shining with everything he'd looked for since that fateful night. Then she nodded, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth in a way that threatened to destroy what little self control remained in his limbs. He pulled to their bedroom after kissing her as softly as he could.

Once there, she locked the door as he pulled the curtains closed. Then they stood with the expanse of the bedroom separating them. The bed seemed to take on epic proportions.

It was their last chance to back down. There would be no going back from this.

And for that reason, he waited for her.

Relief flooded him when Khushi – the girl who'd made a habit of stepping back every time he stepped forward – moved towards him. They met in the middle. When he dipped his head, brushing his lips against hers in a silent question, she wound her arms around his neck without hesitation.

Their kiss began slowly, tender and almost achingly sweet, but they'd denied each other too long for it to last. An inferno raged between them. He tried to crush her closer, splaying his hands across her back and finding the strings that held her dress closed. Her nails dug into him through his shirt as he tugged. Khushi hid her face in his shoulder, breathing hard, and affection swelled in his chest as he carried her to the bed, sliding in beside her before covering them both with the duvet.

Instead of wiggling away as he'd half-expected her to, she held him tightly, muttering his name with a reverence he'd never heard in her voice. Arnav lifted her mouth to his, relishing the shudder that passed through her as his tongue brushed across her lips. He was soon lost in her, in the feel of her finger stroking his cheek, in the small sounds she made as she mimicked him.

He groaned. The sound emboldened her. Her fingers slipped from his cheek to his neck as she pressed closer, fiddling with the closed collar of his shirt. Suddenly impatient, Arnav loosened his tie and unbuttoned his waistcoat in a series of quick movements. Khushi blushed, apparently embarrassed that he'd read her intentions.

"Relax," he soothed her with a kiss to her temple.

Returning her hands to his shirt, Arnav took her into his arms and kissed her until they were both breathless. His lips found her cheek, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. Her every sound heightened his need. Khushi trembled as his fingers traced the zipper on her dress, hiding her face in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. The desire that burnt in his veins abated briefly as he paused, smiling at this proof that he was still her safe harbour in a storm.

She held him tightly as he unzipped her _kameez_ , taking his time to savour the anticipation. Her short, sharp exhalations were hot against his skin. Khushi tried to hide herself when he slid the material down, clutching the dress to her chest as she avoided his eyes. And in that moment, as he watched her gather the courage to allow him this privilege, he realised that she'd never betrayed him in body.

 _And not in mind_ , his heart whispered.

Arnav waited.

And slowly, her hands left the dress. It slipped a few inches, teasing him with the promise of what it concealed, as Khushi sought him again. He crushed her close, hiding her exposed flesh with his body as he kissed her. Bit by bit, she relaxed, pressing closer as the natural responses of her body took over.

And finally, he brushed his hands over the swell of her in an experimental gesture. Gasping, Khushi arched into him, pushing her breasts into his hands. Taking it as the permission he craved, he unsnapped her bra and threw it away, delighting in her uninhabited response as he ran a thumb over a nipple. Her fingers moved frantically over the buttons of his shirt so he threw his tie away before helping her unbutton it, and discarded both shirt and waistcoat in one swift movement. Then he placed her trembling hands to his chest, encouraging her to explore him as he explored her.

She blossomed under his touch, gasping as he ran his hands over her body and hiding herself in his chest when it all became too much. His lust mingled with tenderness. Encouraging her to lie back, Arnav leaned on one elbow to admire her before kissing along her jaw and up to her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth, biting gently before soothing her with his tongue. Khushi squealed when he trailed kisses downwards, her legs scissoring helplessly against his. He traced the line of her collarbone before dipping lower. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she realized his intent, seconds before he closed his mouth over her nipple. His body ached with desire as he flicked his tongue and he watched her as he worked, taking in the way she bit her lip to muffle a cry as she tugged on fistfuls of his hair.

Khushi pulled him up, her hands gentle but insistent as she guided him back to her mouth. Her kiss was soft, inexpert, and incredibly erotic. Instinctively, he rolled his hips against her and then groaned as she did the same. His hands found the ties of her pants, fumbling in haste before he managed to undo the knot. But when his eyes flicked up to hers, he found her frozen, her expression tinged with fear.

 _Slow, Arnav._

"It's okay," he assured her, "We can stop."

He eased away to lie beside her, trying desperately to bring his breathing under control. Sleep seemed impossible now. Every fantasy he'd ever had paled in comparison to what she'd offered him tonight.

 _Barely a taste, and I'm already addicted._

Khushi cuddled close, running a hand over his bare chest before pressing her lips to his skin. He hissed as pleasure shot through him. She was slow and precise, seeming to think and rethink her every action before moving. Arnav lay helpless as she worked, his fingers tightening on her hips. When she finally looked up, blushing in that way of hers, he pulled her down for another kiss. Her hair formed a curtain around them, trapping them in their own private world.

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her lips.

She ducked her head, choosing to kiss his jaw and then his neck instead of answering. Arnav pulled her closer, and convulsed as she touched the tip of her tongue to his skin. Khushi gave a breathless giggle as she tried it again. Her hair brushed his heated skin as she moved over him, kissing her way to his chest. And then he swore breathlessly as his wife kissed along his rib cage. He let her explore for as long as he could handle before gently pulling her up, and tried to pour all his love, his desire, his affection and appreciation, into their kiss.

Arnav flipped them around, liking the soft groan that escaped her as he pressed into her again. Lightning shot through him. Khushi squirmed as he teased her, his fingers running over her thighs and along the waistband of her pants. Her hips rolled upwards as she sought friction.

His careful control slipped. They kissed frantically, her hands roving over his shoulders and back as he ground his hips against her. Fire zipped through his veins. Her sighs and moans filled the room and mingled with his.

Arnav slid her pants down along with the dress that had wrapped around her waist. Khushi avoided his eyes when he returned to her, shivering under the sheets. He brushed her hair away from her damp forehead as he waited for her to voice hesitation. But she only blinked, smiling shyly before pressing a kiss to his jaw. Moving above her, he slid his hands along her arms, over the flesh that rose and fell with her every breath, and downward.

Khushi gasped as he circled her navel, seizing his wrist in a vice-like grip. He froze. He watched the tremble of her bottom lip as she swallowed hard. Then she nodded, loosening her grip slightly, and a sweet ache blossomed in his chest. He traced her skin, attuned to every movement of her trembling fingers, and stopped any time she tightened her hold. Arnav pressed open mouthed kisses to her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw in an effort to convey how much her trust meant.

She relaxed gradually, the muscles in her thighs slackening in increments. She inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed over the fabric of her underwear. Smiling against her shoulder, he skipped down to her uncovered thigh to find the soft skin slick with her need. He groaned as she bucked upwards, searching for him. And now, without so many layers between them, he felt her heat.

Taking Khushi's sounds as encouragement, he slid his hand upward, his fingers seeking. Even through the fabric that covered her, his first touch incited a loud moan. Her hand tightened on his wrist.

"Arnav ..."

"I know."

He slowed, kissing her tenderly as he waited. Khushi turned her head, running her nose along his jaw as he nipped her ear. She pressed light kisses to his neck. He sought the heat between her legs when she relaxed her grip. The fabric of her panties was soaked.

"Do I always make you feel this way?" he whispered his question in her ear.

Her reaction was primal, her hips shifting against his hand as she whimpered. Pushing aside pale blue cotton, he slid two fingers along her slickness, watching as she threw her head back and cried out. Her hand fell away from his wrist. Desire throbbed through him, almost painful in its intensity, but he clamped down on the urge to take her.

This was about her, about easing her into sexual play, about introducing her to pleasure.

Overwhelmed by her trust, Arnav traced over her skin gently as he bent to take her nipple into his mouth. Khushi rocked into his hand, whispering his name, and his world reduced until all he could see and hear and feel was her. He slipped a finger inside, circling his thumb around the softest part of her, and swallowed her cry as she splintered almost instantly. He continued to stroke into her until she calmed, extending her pleasure.

"You're beautiful," he kissed her cheek.

He watched as she caught her breath, pride and satisfaction and desire all mingling in his blood. She shuddered as his hand left her. Khushi blinked, a slow and satiated smile forming on her lips as she watched him with hooded eyes. Her hand shot out to seize his wrist when he brought his fingers to his lips but it was too late; he groaned, closing his eyes as her essence melted on his tongue.

Khushi was still watching him a few moments later, her nose and cheeks painted pink. Arnav kissed her into silence when she started to speak.

"Ssshhh. It's fine. Tastes like _chashni_."

She hid her blush behind her hands. Rolling them over, Arnav smiled contentedly as he pulled the blankets around them. His wife snuggled into him, her breath warm against his neck, and he wondered if she was ready to sleep. As if she'd heard the idle thought, Khushi pressed a kiss to his shoulder. All at once, his need for her almost overwhelmed him, despite the twin warnings of his heart and mind to take things slowly. For Khushi.

His pulse quickened as she worked her way to his lips. His body ached.

Arnav moved his fingers across her still-heated skin. Her breath hitched as he pushed her into the mattress, kissing her shoulders, her neck, her jaw, her lips. He pulled her skin between his lips, soothing the marks he left with his tongue. Trailing kisses down her body, he learnt the places that made her gasp and tighten her hold on him, the places that made her pull at his hair.

Then he hooked his fingers into the cotton of her underwear, gazing along her body to meet her eyes. She bunched the sheets in her hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You need me to stop?" he whispered.

Khushi breathed in deeply before shaking her head, and closed her eyes as she lifted her hips. She shook, with anticipation or apprehension or a mixture of both, he wasn't sure, as he slid the fabric down her legs before tossing it away. Kissing the corner of her mouth, Arnav brushed her hair from her shoulder as he trailed kisses over her. She responded eagerly, matching him touch for touch.

Khushi mewled her displeasure when he left her. For a few moments, the only sounds in the room were the swish of his pants as he discarded them and the crinkle of foil and then plastic.

She pulled him close when he returned to their bed, and he felt strangely light headed as she wrapped her arms around him. It felt surreal, like the most vivid of dreams, but the slight sting of her nails on his skin assured him that it was real. Her thighs fell open, a silent invitation, and it took everything he had to resist the urge that rose within him.

 _Slow, Arnav._

Instead, he kissed her, first roughly, and then softly as he recalled the need for gentleness. His wife groaned as he teased her, his hand sliding between them to stroke her once more. She was ready.

Arnav bit her lip, distracting her as he aligned himself. He circled her with his thumb, causing her to cry out.

"I'm sorry, Khushi," he whispered.

He was fast, but she still sobbed as she clenched around him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He froze as tears pooled in her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he rested his forehead on hers, "Tell me."

Khushi gave another small sob. Guilt bubbled inside him.

 _You should have waited, for her sake._

He started to ease away, keeping his movements as slow and gentle as possible, but stopped when she spoke.

"Don't go."

Khushi tried to hold him closer, as if truly afraid that he'd leave her. A hollow opened in his chest.

 _Fuck._

"Ssshhh," he soothed, "I'm right here with you."

"For now," a tear rolled down her cheek and into her hair.

Dozens of memories attacked him, each more painful than the last, as he recalled all the times he'd left her.

 _Forever._

The truth danced on his tongue. He'd never been good at lying, had always turned his back on those he loved before uttering an untruth, but lying was impossible when he was above her, _inside her_. So he did what he always did and rolled his hips to distract her. Khushi exhaled sharply, her nails leaving marks on his back as she closed her eyes.

He tasted salt when he kissed her. "Does it hurt?"

She started to shake her head, but then changed the movement into a small nod. Arnav brushed the last of her tears away with a thumb. His wife's bottom lip trembled as she looked away.

"Tell me, Khushi," he urged.

"I th-think it hurts l-less when you ... when you m-move."

His entire being ignited. He pressed his lips to her temple as he rocked forward, testing the truth of her words, and groaned as she lifted her hips to take all of him inside her. He felt the world tilt on its axis. Being buried inside her, this woman who held all of him in her hands, was life changing.

 _Soul changing._

Arnav slid his hand over hers, twining their fingers and giving her an anchor as he moved. He rocked slowly, watching Khushi carefully for signs of discomfort, but she instinctively found the primal rhythm she craved and moved with him, against him.

Too soon, she tightened around him, her skin flushing with the beginnings of her release. And though he wasn't ready for it to be over - _would he ever be?_ \- he slipped his hand between them to encourage her.

"I ... I can't ..." she gasped.

"I've got you, let it come."

She plummeted with a sharp cry, her hand tightening around his as she gave in. He let go too, moving into her with purpose until he joined her in oblivion.

Long minutes later, Arnav opened his eyes to find Khushi staring up at him, her cheeks flushed and a small smile on her lips.

"Hi," he smiled.

He eased away, chuckling at the small noise she made as he left her, and rolled off the bed to tidy himself up. Khushi reached for him, already half asleep, as he slid in beside her. He held her close.

As he stared up, watching the patterns her fairy lights made on the ceiling, and came to a decision.

"Khushi?"

She was silent. He spoke to the stars that hung above her side of their bed. To her parents.

"Whatever hurtful things I said, they have no meaning. Whatever hurtful things I did, they have no meaning."

Khushi raised her head slowly, her eyes wide with something akin to disbelief. His pulse stuttered as he continued.

"Right and wrong don't have meaning in this love. Only one thing has meaning ..."

A tear made its way down her cheek, followed by another, then another, as she began sobbing.

"That I will always ... always ..."

He gave her a small smile as he brushed them away, trying to reassure her that his words were true. That he was true. And would always be.

" ... love you."

* * *

 _Author's Note: How did you like it?_


	8. Ecstasy: Part 1

**Part One: Khushi**

Khushi stood pressed against the tiles as water sprayed all around her. Her husband stood in front of her, kissing his way down her body, attentive to every part of her that screamed its need. She couldn't remember how they'd gotten here, but she couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else. The water seemed to scald her as he worked his way lower, but it was nothing compared to the heat he created.

She opened her eyes to watch as he knelt in front of her, but closed them tightly when the intensity of what was in his eyes became too much. He kissed down one leg and up the other.

The first touch of his tongue scorched her. Her eyes opened in shock, fingers sliding across his shoulders in a feeble attempt to stop him, but his hands only tightened on her thighs as he did it again. Khushi's eyes fluttered closed. Her hands scrambled for purchase on the slippery tiles, and when they found none, they tangled in his hair, tugging and pulling.

Arnav shifted, and suddenly he was everywhere, somehow within her and without as well. The sound that tore from her throat was primal and raw. He held her up as her body threatened to collapse.

She couldn't ... she wanted ...

Her pleasure built, bliss and agony all at once, before she shattered with a cry.

When she came back to herself, blinking slowly as she gasped air back into her lungs, she found her husband now standing and cradling her close. She stared at him wonder, cheeks heating as awareness crashed into her, but he only flicked her nose with a gentle finger.

"You okay?"

Khushi nodded, a shy smile forming as she rested her head on his shoulder. Water cascaded over them. She ran her hands over his shoulders and chest, touching the half crescent marks her nails had left last night.

They'd been together only twice. Once at the farmhouse, and then last night when their bedroom had been without cameras for the first time since their formal marriage. It had been tentative and slow as they'd explored each other properly for the first time, taking all night to learn one another.

Khushi's hands roamed lower, and then lower still, no longer in her control. Her fascination with her husband, _with his body_ , had taken over.

Arnav gasped her name, and she froze. "Does it hurt?"

He rested his head on the tiles next to her, his eyes closed and his breath coming in ragged gasps, "No babe, it doesn't hurt."

 _Oh._

A strange sense of power rose within her at the realisation that she could reduce her husband to this with just her touch, and she continued her tentative exploration with a small smile.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Ecstasy is a very short three-shot I wrote for Valentine's Day :)_


	9. Ecstasy: Part 2

**Part Two: Arnav**

Arnav let her play for as long as he could handle and then gently removed her hands while kissing her. He was purposeful, using everything he'd learnt about her their scant time together to ignite her desire and stroke it to flame. She dragged her mouth across his jaw and to his shoulder, peppering breathless kisses to his neck and collarbone on the way, and he groaned as her hands moved over his chest.

Bending, he took her nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue as he'd discovered she liked. One hand travelled lower, tracing her navel before finding the heat between her legs. He circled his thumb and tongue in tandem, listening as she sighed and moaned. When she was ready, he wrapped his hands around her hips and lifted.

"Legs around me," he commanded, and she complied without hesitation.

He pressed her against the wall, liking the way she clung to his shoulders. Her eyes were hooded, her lips slightly parted, and her body taut with anticipation. Arnav slid into her slowly, mindful that she might be sore from last night. The warm suction of her body urged him into her until he was buried. He slid out just as slowly, ignoring her whimpers of protest, and then slammed back into her. She cried out before biting her lip in a futile attempt at silence. Grinning, he rocked forward, finding an already familiar rhythm and driving her towards ecstasy yet again.

Arnav pulled her bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to hush her cries before sliding his tongue in and out of her mouth in tandem with their _other_ tempo. She signed into his mouth, the heightened sensation almost too much, and he felt her tighten almost instantly.

They plummeted together, clutching at one another desperately, and though he was too distracted to quieten her, she dropped her head and bit his shoulder to muffle her cries. But he doubted that anyone would hear them over the running water and behind two locked doors.

Exhausted, Khushi shook in his arms for several heartbeats before unwrapping her legs. He held her close, whispering words of love to her and watching carefully as she pulled herself together. When he was sure she was fine, Arnav pulled back with a smile. Bestowing a small kiss at the corner of her mouth, he released her and turned to complete his shower before stepping out of the cubicle with a wink.


	10. Ecstasy: Part 3

**Part Three: Arnav**

Khushi watched him run a towel over himself before stepping into boxers, trousers, and a black shirt. He flashed her a smile before returning to their bedroom, leaving her to her ablutions.

 _What just happened? Did we just ... and in the shower?_

She shook her head and reached for the shampoo he'd bought her. They had a lot to do today, and she couldn't be distracted by him. No matter how much she enjoyed these ... _distractions_.

Guilt tore into her as she recalled exactly what they needed to do today. She thought of Di and the baby, and all the foul things Shyam-ji had done. The time she and Arnav-ji had spent together could have been used to help Di.

 _How could we be so selfish?_

Her husband chose that moment to return to the bathroom. Khushi felt gratitude swell within her as he hung her yellow towel on the rack and set a _salwar_ suit on the shelf for when she was finished. Arnav-ji turned to leave but stopped when he caught sight of her face. Her distress must have been clear.

"What's wrong?"

Khushi shook her head, raising a hand to indicate that he should leave, but he scrutinised her for several long seconds before striding out again.

When she emerged, drying her hair on her towel, she was greeted with the sight of her husband standing at the poolside doors as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. Her pulse quickened as memories of the bathroom flashed to the forefront of her thoughts. Arnav-ji seemed to read her mind when he turned; his grin indicated that his thoughts were exactly where hers had been. Khushi blushed, turning to the wardrobe in an attempt to avoid him, but her caught her up in his arms.

"Tell me what's wrong," Arnav-ji's tone was brittle with command.

"I felt guilty," she confessed, hiding her face in his waistcoat, "We were so engrossed in each other and Di is still in the dark. We're meant to be helping her and instead we're ..."

His hold tightened as he soothed her with a hand to her head.

"We haven't done anything wrong. I don't want you to feel like this about it. We're going to help Di. We discussed the plan and we're going through it. There's nothing, _nothing_ , wrong with what we did, okay? Not last night, not now, not at any other time."

Khushi sniffled, nodding against his chest. He led her to the recliner, where he knelt in front of her as she settled on its edge. She looked down to where he clasped her hand between both of his.

"I'll fix this," his gaze was earnest, ablaze with emotion, "I promise."

She leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead, "I know."

* * *

 _Author's Note: This was just a fun little piece for Valentine's Day, I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading :)_


	11. Ache: Part 1

_Author's Note: This one isn't a story, just an erotic snippet :)_

* * *

His mouth sucked, hot and soft and perfect, driving her higher.

She moaned as he added his fingers, the pressure almost too much, and soon she was lost in the pleasure he created. She squealed when his tongue flicked against her in tandem with the glide of his fingers inside, and it wasn't long before she shattered, crying out his name.

But he wasn't done. Pressing a kiss to her thigh, he turned her with gentle yet firm hands until she was on her front. He slid up alongside her, his body warm and bare against hers, and whispered in her ear.

"I want to try something."

She nodded her consent, her trust in him absolute, and took her bottom lip between her teeth as he slid away again. He knelt between her legs, pushing her thighs apart and gripping her waist to slide a pillow under her. When she whimpered, feeling utterly vulnerable, he soothed her with a warm hand along her spine.

That same hand slipped around her waist and between her legs, stroking the warmth that had pooled there. Moaning, she lifted her hips higher, trying to force the angle of his fingers so she could find her bliss again. Chuckling, he removed his fingers, and she felt the mattress dip as he positioned himself behind her. She groaned when he slid his length where his fingers had been, the feeling exquisite in its perfection. Again, she lifted her hips higher, her mind hazily understanding what he was trying to do.

But he took his time, torturing her with his fingers and body until she was almost begging for him. And then, finally, he was there, hot and hard as he pressed inside.

 _Oh._

She moaned as her body stretched to accommodate him in this new way, almost painful but not quite. He inched forward.

"Breathe in," he instructed, his voice strained.

She complied, fingers twisting in the sheets.

"Breathe out."

She did, and he pushed inside in the same instant. They both released a taut moan.

"You okay?"

She nodded, breathing shallowly as she grew accustomed to this new feeling.

He moved slowly, barely rocking, but she whimpered as electricity zipped in her veins. It felt incredible. She pushed against him, eager for more.

They found their rhythm, bodies working in tandem as they reached for their peak. The thick, slow drag of him was too much, _too perfect_ , and she knew she wouldn't last long. When he added his fingers, his lips pressed against her spine as he circled his forefinger around her, she twisted the sheets in her hands, trying to hold out. He circled once, twice, in tandem with the rhythm of his hips. Her body quaked under his.

Another circle, his teeth on her skin, and she plummeted with a cry. Then he _worked_ , his fingers gripping her hips, and followed her into oblivion.


	12. Oblivion

**Warning: This is very explicit and contains a scenario that has the potential to make people uncomfortable.**

 _Please proceed with caution, and be kind :)_

* * *

Oblivion

* * *

"Welcome Arnav- _bhaiya_ ," HP greeted him at the door, "Di asked for—"

"—No," he groaned, "Later. Where's Khushi?"

"Upstairs," came the soft reply.

A headache pulsed between Arnav's eyes as he climbed up the stairs. He found Khushi perched on the sofa, fiddling with the laundry. He locked the door.

"Arnav-ji!", she greeted him brightly, the red bangles on her wrists clinking softly as she worked, "I was just thinking about—"

His wife squealed as he lifted her from the sofa and deposited her on the bed, where he joined her after kicking off his shoes. Seconds later, he was wrapped around her, seeking solace in her familiar warmth, burying his face against her neck to breathe in her jasmine scent.

She was silent. The pounding in his head subsided in slow increments as her hand came up to stroke his hair.

"Bad day?" she asked softly.

Arnav groaned into her shoulder, sliding his leg across hers and pulling her closer. She seemed to understand.

"Aarav is staying with Jiji and Aakash-ji," her fingers rubbed soothing circles into his scalp as his eyes fluttered closed, "He wants to sleep in Alok's room."

"Mmmkay."

Here, he was finally at peace. Here, he was home.

And then, he became aware of another ache as serenity flooded his limbs. He stirred, his body responding almost instantly as he kissed Khushi's shoulder, her neck, her jaw.

When she didn't move, Arnav tilted his head to consider her before realizing that she was fast asleep.

" _Pagal_ ," he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he tapped out a message to Di to let her know that he and Khushi would organize their own dinner and were not to be disturbed. And then he settled beside his wife, his breathing slowing to match hers.

#####

There was warmth. Exquisite warmth. Followed by lightning.

He groaned, a deep rumble in his chest, as his eyes blinked open. And in that instant, that split second between _asleep_ and _awake_ , he became aware of three things.

It was dark. The sun had long since set and their bedroom was lit only by pale moonlight shining through a gap in the curtains and the soft glow of fairy wife was no longer beside him. She was between his was fully aroused.

Arnav looked downward. The warmth was her mouth.

"Fuck."

Her eyes had been trained on him, and as he lifted his head to get a better look, she raised her eyebrows at him in question – _Should I stop_?

 _Hell no._

Tangling a hand in her hair, he moved slightly to encourage her to continue. She did. For many long minutes, his mind was blissfully blank, aware only of the magic his wife was creating.

But into this ecstasy crept another thought.

 _He didn't want to chase oblivion alone_.

"Stop," he rasped.

She froze, allowing him a moment to catch his breath, and then blushed as their gazes clashed.

"Come here."

But to his utter bewilderment, she shook her head.

She whispered, "I want to do this."

"Khushi ..." his tone sharpened with command.

She gave a small shrug as she settled back down, and within moments, had resumed her work. She did something with her tongue that drove all thought from his mind.

He was close.

"Babe ..." he warned.

She rose up, quickly replacing her lips with her hand and covering him with a handful of tissues. His pleasure built at the base of his spine, tightening, and then his entire being coiled and shattered.

When air returned to his lungs, he opened his eyes to find Khushi watching him carefully. She came easily when he reached for her, stretching out alongside him as he buried his nose in her hair.

"What was that?" he whispered.

Khushi turned away, hiding her face, as she mumbled, "When I woke up you were ..."

Her hand waved briefly in the air, a gesture he took to mean _aroused_.

"... and so I thought ..." she lapsed into silence.

Half a dozen teasing remarks came into his mind, but an awareness swept through Arnav as he started to deliver his favourite. Khushi was trembling.

"Are you cold?"

She shook her head.

"What's wrong?"

Two minutes passed in silence. Then another two. His fingers tightened at her waist as he waited. And finally,

"I'm sorry," her voice was small, "I won't do it again."

"What the—!?"

Arnav turned her around gently and forced her to meet his eyes. His pulse stuttered at the sight of tears.

"Khushi ..." he wiped them away with his thumb as she gave a little sob.

"I thought it was a good idea but ..."

"But ..." he prompted, frowning.

"It's not right."

"It's not ... right? What do you mean? It's hardly the first time you've ..."

"But never while you were as-asleep," another sniffle as she tried to hide fresh tears, "I shouldn't have ..."

"Okay," Arnav gathered her close, "Ssshhh, don't cry. Relax ... it's only me."

It took some time, but she eventually quieted enough to listen.

"Khushi, you didn't _have_ to. Do you know that?"

She nodded miserably, "Yes."

Arnav sat up, absently flicking his clothes back in order. Khushi had been ... _efficient_ ... in the pursuit of her goal.

"So, what's all this?" he indicated to her tears, "I would never expect you to do anything you weren't willing to do."

"I know," Khushi looked away, "but I thought ..."

"What did I tell you? That first night after we were married? Nothing happens unless we both want it. Even here. _Especially here_."

"You'll think I'm bad. Dirty."

"What the hell?!"

It was hard to speak about, even to her, the person he loved and trusted and desired above all else. But he tried.

"It's ..." he took a deep breath, "It's not about being bad or dirty. It's about us. How we are with each other. We talk about it. We change the things that need changing."

His wife rested her head on his shoulder, "Okay."

"Are you alright now?" Arnav asked, tilting his head to watch her reaction as he trailed a finger down her cheek.

"I think ... I think so."

"Your trust means so much to me."

"What if I ... What if it's too much?" she whispered.

"What's too much?"

Khushi studied their duvet, "If I want too much?"

He grinned, his heart flooding with emotion as she blushed.

"You could never want me too much."

She shoved him playfully, smiling, " _Badmaash_."

He gave chase as she disentangled herself, grazing his teeth on her earlobe before whispering, "I am, but only with you."

Khushi blushed again, trying to hide in the space between his head and shoulder. He stroked her hair as he twisted so he lay on his back.

"Khushi?"

She snuggled into him, humming contentedly, "Hmmm?"

"I have to tell you something."

She shifted into her elbow so she could see him, already biting her lip with worry. He kissed her pout away before speaking.

"Do you remember my bachelor's party? At the farmhouse? And the song you danced to?"

The spark that had briefly disappeared from her eyes returned with the memory. " _Namak Ishq Ka_. In the black sari that you gave me."

Arnav struggled to control his grin, "Do you know what that song is about?"

"Love!" she answered with a smile.

"Uhhh ... no," he laughed, "That's not it at all."

Khushi poked his chest, "Why are you laughing? What is it about, then?"

"Think of the lyrics," he prompted, still trying to contain his laughter.

She mouthed the chorus, still frowning adorably in confusion, and he watched as her features slowly melted into horror.

"Oh _Devi Maiyya_! What did I do!?"

"You seduced me."

"Oh but with that _song_. The things I did. The things I _said_. And you! You didn't stop me!" she smacked his chest.

"Ow! I tried."

"Arnav-ji!"

"Can I put in requests for the future? Dance for me again," he counted on his fingers, lowering his voice intimately, "Seduce me again."

And then he winked, "Wake me up like that again."

"Arnav!" she was scandalised.

He flipped them around with a chuckle, nuzzling her neck affectionately, "I liked it."

And then a soft kiss, "I love you, Khushi. Never change."


End file.
